


A Thing About Silver

by Dinthehottotty



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Angst, Cobb Smut, Creampie, Delusions, Din Djarin - Freeform, Din Smut, Dirty Talk, F/M, Gratuitous Smut, Mando, Not a three way, Revenge Sex, Smut, Soft Din Djarin, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, cobb vanth - Freeform, jealous mando
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:49:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29113323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dinthehottotty/pseuds/Dinthehottotty
Summary: Reader is really horny and Mando refuses to give into her ultimatum. She takes comfort from Cobb before returning to Din.
Relationships: Cobb Vanth/Reader, Cobb Vanth/You, Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You
Comments: 19
Kudos: 115





	1. Delusions

You'd felt the sexual frustration for months now. And not just a couple. It was going on nine months. Nine! And stuffing your fingers up inside you in the dark of your bunk before Mando came into the room was far from satisfactory. The desperate and quick orgasms were becoming even less powerful, making you chase multiples only to find a lack luster completion. And recently you'd even resorted to when he was there. You'd listen for his quiet breathing and pray to all the gods that he was long since passed out.

It felt like your cunt hadn't stopped aching for months. The whole time you'd thrown flirty comments at Mando. At first he ignored them. But the things you said went from cute little flirts to filthy fucking language. Especially when he joined in, throwing random comments in it. You shiver every time you think of him saying ‘Now is not the time to stare at me so you can think of me in your bunk later.” You’d given him a naughty grin as he told you to hand him a tool on your other side while he worked on a panel inside the ship. His quips were getting better.

There was something about being in that little bo-dunk strip in the dessert that reminded you just how thirsty you were. What you wouldn't give to gulp down (not even his at this point) some thick cock.

Ugh. Even the thought made you internally cringe.

You were getting desperate.

And then the Marshall walked in.

Your heart stuttered automatically in your chest. Hard. Dirty thoughts of getting railed by not one, but two Mandalorians had your brain short circuiting. Oh, filth oozed from you.

And then he removed his helmet and you speed ran the five stages of grief. Just as acceptance rolled in, Mando demanded he 'take it off or that he would.' It was low and threatening and made you nearly lose your mind even thought his intent was murder and not some western style three-way. Nonetheless, it would steamroll your dreams nightly.

You didn't expect Vanth to charm you the way he had. You suppose it was his silver hair and pearly grin at work with your dry spell because normally you had a thing for mocha skin and soulful brown eyes.

Now, the deep ache had reached not just between your legs but deep in your belly. There was a monster hooked in your cervix and you needed something to beat it to death in there. Fuck were you getting desperate.

Almost an entire week of Vanth flirting with you and Mando barely acknowledging it. Like it didn't matter. Oh, did that make you boil. And here, celebrating back in the town for killing that godforsaken sand dragon, you were about to spill over. Especially when Vanth smirks at you from across the bar, a lift to one of his brows, questioning your next move.

You hadn't given him an inch on the mission. Not a smile or a blush. Just kept your mouth shut and glanced to Mando who'd plainly ignore it.

You didn't know if he didn't see Vanth as competition or if he just didn't care. You reach back for your drink on the bar, ready to throw one back in attempt to burn our the flames between your legs. A flash of silver catches your eye.

Glancing over, you see Mando striding over from the door.

"Room is ready. Go get some sleep. We leave early." He orders.

With liquid courage in your system, you glare at him and turn back to your drink. You motion for the bar keep to refill you. "Are you going to be joining me? Or are you going to leave me high and dry again?" You manage out the growl.

He stares at you in silence and you face him, giving a question lift to your eyebrows, a lack of anything other than blatant distaste in your features.

"You're drunk." He decides.

"Getting there." You snap and take a slow sip of your drink, eyeing the tinted visor on his face.

He watches as you twist your body toward Vanth again and lean against the bar. He's calmly watching the exchange between you both from across the loud room.

"Tell you what, you give me one good dance to the next song and I'll go back to the room with you right now." He doesn't budge.

"No," is his only answer. You shake your head and scoff.

"Fine," you reply.

"I'll leave you here if you're not up tomorrow at sunrise." He threatens. Honestly you're more surprised he's not mushing you back toward the ship as you speak.

"If you don't stop me, I'm going to dance with Vanth." He's quite once more. You allow your head to lazily loll back towards the Mandalorian. He's stiff as a board and so quiet you decide to continue with your liquid courage. "Tell me 'no' and I won't fuck him. Tell me you'll take me back to the room and bruise my cervix right now and I won't go seek him out to do it instead." Mando turns to look toward Vanth now. You see his fists tighten, the leather stretching tight across his knuckles.

"Say no," you prompt again. The air is filling with the bustle of the space around you but it stills between the three of you, like lightning about to hit. You straighten to your full height and step close, hovering within inches of his space. You lower your voice to honeyed whisper. "Take me back to the room, Din." His head twitches your way, but barely. "Use me like a whore. I just need to feel something. Something other than my own damn hands or my fucking pillow, please just say no." Give me hope.

He remains silent and watches Vanth. His body is turned towards you, but his head is directed at the Marshall. You wish you could get a read on him but for the life of you, you can't. He just remains silent.

Finger tips brush your arm, bare ones. You hadn't realized Vanth had slid across the small bar to your side. "Hey, sweetheart," he purrs down into your ear. You glance over at him. "You've got such a tense face, come dance with me, break loose of Mando." He urges with a wink and a grin.

He was hesitant to flirt with you at first, but the more he did it and the lack of either parties protest leave him gaining confidence. You and Mando were dancing around each other, gaging the reaction of the other. He never stepped in between. Even now you were watching him. He just remained silent and stared at Vanth. You wish you could read his mind, understand what the fuck is running through it.

After a long still moment you twist toward Vanth. "Are you going to be able to keep up, old man?" You reply. Surprise and excitement flash across his face as Mando's head now swivels at you.

"I help you take down a sand dragon and you think I can't handle a dance?" His hand returns to your arm. Hard finger tips trace feather-light down the sensitive underside of your arm and ghost over your wrist. Your heart stutters in your chest when he firmly intertwines your fingers and gives a gentle tug.

Still, the suit of armor doesn't say a word as you're dragged away. A pain fills you chest. You throw your drink back and drop the glass onto a near by table you pass. A new song comes on, more up beat and you push Mando out of your head as much as you can. You don't need the painof rejection dampening your mood. Not when your so close to getting your legs lifted to your shoulders.

Vanth can dance, you soon realize. He's gracefully zipping you around to the beat and you're actually having fun within a minute of starting. It's a fantastic distraction. And so are his hands.

They start up high, the middle of your back, barely touching you, clasped with yours. And by the third song, when there's a heard of bodies also moving around you, he starts to wander. The hand holding yours falls to your hip, pulling you flush against him. Your eyes dart for a moment. Beskar watches you from the bar still, now sitting. Watching.

"So, before I continue trying to coax you away," the voice in your ear startles you as you both sway to a slower tempo, "am I going to be shot with a blaster by Mando?"

It cracks a smile on your face and you giggle at the thought. "Not what you want to hear, but I've been throwing myself at him for months and not a damn thing's happened," you reply.

"Too bad he took the armor," he replies. Your eyes widened at the thought he was proposing. You sink against his chest, staring up into his crystal blue eyes.

"That might stir up some psychological issues for me, Vanth," you say with a flirty giggle. He grins.

"Damn, you've got the most stunning smile," he murmurs and suddenly his hand is coming up to cup your face and tuck your hair behind your ear.

More than anything you want it to be Mando touching you like that, telling you he loves your smile. It makes you ache. You do the only logical thing you can think of.

You push it deep down, bottling it up with the rest of your emotions.

Closing your eyes, you sink your face against his hand, lifting a hand from his chest to cup it against your face. When you open your eyes you are startled to find Mando standing behind him and let out a squeak.

"What?" You snap sourly as Vanth twists.

Mando's hand is clenched tightly at his side. "It's on the north side of the village."

"It's two places down from me," Vanth offers with a sugar sweet grin. "I'll make sure see gets back." That... that is the reaction you wanted Mando to have when Vanth flirted. Instead, now your twisted in the latter's arms.

Mando looks at you again, then heaves a sigh and leaves.

You fight the urge to follow him. Instead, you continue to dance with Vanth, pushing your hips into his and building up that urge you've been wrestling with for months.

It's the feel of his mouth pressing down on your neck. That's all it takes for you to throw credits down on the bar and drag him out. The moment the cool night air hits you, he's pressing you up against the side of the building and tasting you. There's teeth and tongue. Arousal is burning you up.

Vanth has you both shuffling around the side of the bar and against the side of it before he's sliding a hand into your underwear and you breathe a gasp of relief. You want to sob at the feeling of him filling your cunt so easily with two fingers. His face crumbles in delight.

"Fuck, look how wet you are," he groans. "Come on, let's go back to mine. I'll eat you out, okay?" He coaxes while rolling his fingers in and out of your sopping pussy slowly. Like your not bracing against the wall and rocking desperately onto his fingers. Like you aren't gasping for the dry air as you would be if you had ran a marathon. He'd barely touched you and it felt so kriffing good that there was a heat burning through you like no other.

The feel of his hand where you so desperately need it and his blunt promise to make you cum has you clamping tightly on his fingers. You mewl out a quiet please, so desperate for this not to stop. Nothing had felt so good in so long. You always had to rush and his fingers were thicker than yours, could reach better.

Thankfully he's so mesmerized by your reaction he keeps up his good work. It's not even ten seconds before heat fills your belly and your hands snatch his forearm, holding it in place and leaning your forehead on his shoulder. "C-close," you manage to warn when the palm of his hand pressed down on your clit.

His eyebrows shoot up as his other hand tilts your head back to look at your face. "Already? You poor thing. You're wound up tighter than a-" he doesn't get to finish his thought because you're fisting hands in his shirt when he fingers you slower, but pushes harder up into your front wall. You give a broken cry, tucking your head into your chest and pushing back onto his hand as you completely come undone.

It's the best orgasm you've had in months, leaving Vanth grinning down on you with dark eyes. Your legs wobble beneath you. "Oh, you poor thing. Mando's been edging you for far too long." He breathes before ghosting his mouth over your neck. Your head rolled back exposes it and you whimper as he presses his fingers a few more times into the spongy sweet spot inside.

Its only when someone stumbles loudly from the entrance of the bar that he drags his fingers out, leaving you aching and unbearably empty.

He pulls you into his side, and if anyone saw they'd probably call you drunk. Your a ragdoll from coming off your orgasm. It was hard to focus your eyes as he supports you. The both of you give soft chuckles in response.

"My place?" He prompts.

"Aye, Marshall." He steadies you before the two of you meander the short distance of the street. There aren't many buildings. Its more of a village than a town. No matter where you stood in it, you could see the edges. When you step up onto the front porch you turn to glance around, a flash of silver making itself known.

Silver? Mando. Two buildings down, the last one on this stretch, across the street sat the Mandalorian. The light glowed from the open door behind him, warm and inviting.

I wanna go home, the intrusive thought rang in your head. A pitifully small voice urging you to head down to the porch steps that Din perched, cleaning his rifle, on.

The post orgasm clarity was hitting you. You felt sleepy. Exhausted. You could head in, lay down beside the child and drift to sleep until your partner woke you and dragged you to the next planet. Sleep off the alcohol.

Din glances up, pausing and staring right at you. You step his way, hesitating at the end of Vanth's porch. The man behind you opened his door and turn toward you. But you were too caught up in Mando's reaction. He watched you.

Just tell me 'no', Din. You internally begged. If he'd so much as gestured you back to him you would leap from the porch and race back to him. Instead he went back to polishing the barrel.

Spite fills you and you turn toward Vanth. He gives you a gentle questioning gaze before gesturing you into the dark. You step through, feeling the heat of your anger rising again.

"Are you sure, sweetheart?" Is the words he speaks when the door closes. "Don't think I'm above sleeping with a woman so she can get her revenge. You can use me however your heart desires." He says, flipping the light on.

"Leave the light off and kiss me. Roughly. I'm angry." You admit. He raises a single brow before brushing his fingers over the light on the wall and turning it back off.

"Rough?" He rasps, striding forward to cup your face. "Can I cum in you?"

The question short circuits your brain, negating any anger or reason for your anger at the request. "Oh, fuck. Please?" You squeak and he grasps your face in his hands, bruising your lips with his. His mouth tastes like spotchka and his teeth are eager to bite.

He kisses over your jaw as his hands drop to drag your body back against his. He's an effective amnesia to your poor broken heart. His hands feel good as they tug at clothing. You don't quite register doing the same. Not when his teeth are nipping at your neck and speeding up your heart rate.

Dank ferrik, it felt good to grind your stimulated groin over his with less fabric in the way. You both gasp into the night.

You push away the guilt that nubbed up in your mind. No. He rejected you. Din rejected every advance. You had no reason to feel guilt.

Still it lingers in the corner. Watching through a tinted visor and looming.

Cobb tilts you back onto the bed, groaning deeply into your shoulder. "Do you want to cum again, first?"

"N-no, just, just put it in," you groan. "Just wanna feel full." It earns you a shaky groan of approval.

Without warning he grips your hips and flips you onto your stomach. A sharp smack lands on your ass, letting you moan softly. He sits upright, lining up with you in the dark.

You whimper when you feel his cock rub once over you before he's aligned. Then he sinks in and that delicious stretch has you gasping as he slides home. There is a drawn moment where you both soak up that initial cure of need. Then he sets a fast pace, drilling deeply.

A hand closes on the back of your neck, tightening.

"Are you enjoying this?" Din's modulated voice asks in your ear, mockingly. He's not actually there of course, only serving to piss you off more. Because you know how much better it'd feel if it was him splitting your ass in two.

You brace against the bed. Pushing back harder and moaning. It makes the hand twist around your throat and jerk you back against Cobb. The change in position makes you whimper. You reach back for hair, guiding his mouth to yours.

Cobb seems to understand that the roughness is urging him to kick up his own. His hand on you hip snatches one of your breasts to squeeze. You break away to whimper and catch more silver.

"Do you think I'll be here every time you fuck someone now?" The Din-delusion taunts as he lounges on the pillows comfortably. You were definitely going to have a psychological break after this one night stand.

He's so annoying that even the delicious grunts that rise from your new lover is hard to focus on.

"Harder." You rasp. You're tossed to the bed as Vanth crawls across you.

"You can call his name if it makes you feel better," he rumbles as he sinks back into your cervix with a hard thrust. His fingers dig into your thighs.

"Call it out," Not-Din chuckles. "Cry my name loud enough I can hear it across the street. Maybe that'll spur me on." It's dripping with so much sarcasm as your head nearly knocks into his leg that isn't actually there.

"No," you snarl at the figment of your guilty conscience. You sink your teeth into his shoulder and cry out when his hips canter harder into you. You claw at his back, earning happy groans and him twitching inside you.

"Yeah, probably a better idea. If you call put my name I might think your in trouble and shoot the bastard."

"I'm gonna fuck you a-again. Cl-close."

"Cum in me, Vanth!" you cry louder than intended. His hand tangles roughly in your hair, exposing your throat to new assault. Fuck, you'll ache tomorrow, you hope.

"That's it, baby girl," Not-Din coos. "Louder, maybe that'll make me respect you enough to see you as more than just a kid. Maybe I'll see you in sexual manner."

Vanth's hips stutter as he spills inside of you. He pants against your neck for a moment and then draws back to flash you with a dazzling smile, even in the dark. "It'll take me a minute to recharge. Can I go down on you?"

It makes you blink in surprise, even Not-Din tilts his helmet with curiosity at the sweaty man on top of you.

"You... you just came in me though..." you protest weakly.

"So, it's mine." He drops down to snatch a nipple into his mouth, delighted.

You give a moan. "Ye-yeah, knock yourself out, Vanth." He drags you to the edge of the bed to throw your legs over his shoulders. It feels so lewd to have him lapping so hungerly at you while his own cum spilled out of you.

"Filthy girl, aren't you?" Din growls out, moving around behind Vanth to watch casually. Why did that turn you on? Having the Mandalorian watching as another man devoured you. You liked it, when the man between your legs moaned against your sex.

He was decent at it. Obviously doing it more for himself at this point than for you. But between the sexual frustration that had been building for months and the overstimulation, it wasn't taking very long to bring you to a second orgasm.

All the while Not-Din leaned back and watch, taunting you and mocking you. "You really said let's throw it all away for a fuck." That line got you.

Vanth was lapping at your oversensitive clit, pulling the hood back and relishing the sobs of pleasure. But it wasn't just a sob of pleasure. Tears rolled over your temples and into your hair as your legs quake. Your chest ached as you begged him not to stop, hoping another orgasm might drown out the despair that this wasn't the man you wanted.

He was a poor substitute to reconcile your hurt feelings. You regret it already, as you knew you would. But that doesn't stop you from screwing him for a few more hours.

Eventually all is quiet, the both of you lying in the dark, catching your breath and coming down from your highs. And you watched as the vision of Din faded, feeling more empty now than you had before. "Thanks," you murmur into the dark and sit up before exhaustion fully takes you.

"Hey," he calls into the dark, the only light trickling in from the port window. "I know heart break is absolutely soul crushing, but there will be others. I promise. Someday it won't hurt so bad." You flinch when a hand brushes down your spine.

Self hatred seeped from you with the finishings Cobb left in you. "I'm gonna go," you manage, standing on sore legs to collect your clothes.

"Alright."

There's nothing but the shuffle of clothes as you get dressed. That was the last thing either of you spoke to each other before you stepped out onto the porch and into the cool night air.


	2. Dangerous

Mando was moved on to cleaning his blaster now, still waiting. It made you sick.

Ducking your head, you shuffle through the sand and don't bother to look at him as you approach the little dome. He doesn't say anything as you climb the steps he sits on and wordlessly move toward the building.

Sleep called for you.

Leather snatches your wrist, not delicate at all. "Look at me," he manages. It's got no bite. No edge. It's soft and coaxing. Too sweet for your eager ears because now tears are welling in your eyes again at the shame. Immediately you know the truth of things. There is no illusion that you've truly and sorely fucked up. The worry in his voice twists you apart. Would you ever be able to repair the shot your hurt pride took?

Instead you squeeze your eyes shut and tilt your head back, desperately hoping that he won't insist. But it's Din. "Please, look at me," he begs. The attempt to steel yourself and stand your ground crumbles like the sand in your boots.

"I can't," you manage, voice breaking harshly. "Let me go." You pull your hand away and trudge into the little room he'd rented. The child was long since passed out in his floating crib. There was a tiny kitchenette in the corner, one that had been cleaned but a bowl still sat at the table. Then there was a bed and a sofa. Toward the back sat a door, you assume to the 'fresher.

You can hear Din following behind you, heavy boots making the floors creak. "You should eat something," he tries, voice turning tense but he's still just as soft as before. Instead of listening, you move toward the sofa and sink down on it, the fresh tears hot on your cheeks.

There is a split second between when he moves around and sees the tears, and him reaching for you. "Don't," you rasp.

"Did he hurt you?" He snarls, despite his gentleness of his hands flutter over you.

"No," you snap back at him. Finally glaring deep into the visor of his helm. It lasts only a moment. "No, Din, he didn't do anything wrong." You sniffle and fixate on a spot on the wall, then stop fighting the urge and curl in on yourself. How could you sit here and feel sorry for yourself when you'd ruined everything so easily. All for a quick fuck. (Well, not necessarily quick.) You'd pushed and prodded, always hoping for a different reaction but deep down, you'd always known the truth. Din didn't love you in that way.

He paces across the floor in front of you, very quiet, very anxious. Despite feeling the increasing anxiety from it, you decide to push it down. Your own frustration twisting and tightening like a coil. The air was heavy. 

That is until your eyes fall on the floating cradle in the corner. Your heartaches, you weren't just losing Din. The kid would go with him. 

You had two options. This was an ugly sore that neither of you could ignore. Should you try to resolve it now? Best case, you ride out this wave of shame and stick with Din and the child. They were home to you, but you'd be subjected to the truth that Din would never love you in this way. Trust was probably broken and until you both had mended from the hurt of the situation, the ship couldn't sail smoothly. You'd have to learn to not love Din in that manner, if that was possible. You fear that it would make you bitter. How long would you be staying with Din? Until the kid was gone? Would he be okay after he'd delivered him? Should you both spend the next few nights thinking and settling on your stupidity or would that just encourage further brewing? You didn't know if you could trust yourself to stay level headed or not burst into wails if Din so much as raised his voice.

But you needed it. You need him to scream at you about your recklessness. You needed to be shamed because how could you possibly take Din being this sweet and worried about you. Bile worked it's way up from your stomach, fighting with burning fingertips.

His pacing froze, seeming to watch you with distress, but you couldn't tear your blurred eyes from the levitating bassinette. 

"Are you going to leave me?" He asks, his voice much firmer than before. 

"I..." You start but slowly trailed off. There were too many words in your head. It was muddled and confused. In the very center of it was the enormous weight of shame and guilt. The utter dread cored from them but gravitating all of the negativity that surrounds your situation. It was tossing you in the oceans of panic, you were drowning. Din's anxiety was driving him to go rigid. 

The idea of going to sleep was teasing you. Your eyelids were heavy. What time was it even? It was an empty thought. You wouldn't sleep. Just chasing your tail endlessly. 

Din is moving between you and the kid and you realize the possessive tone his voice had carried. The real question was he wanted to ask was 'are you going to try to steal my child?' and he had obviously taken that as a threat. How this must look, you gazing longingly at the sleeping babe in his cradle and not giving the man a true answer. 

Your eyes move up the curves of beskar that blocked your view of the little one. More hurt is rising. He wasn't worried you'd leave. He was worried you'd take the wrinkly green baby. Somehow you felt the need to blame the metal that separated him from you. You didn't normally curse the only think that had kept him alive this long, but it seemed to mock you like in Cobb's hut. It spurs a dangerous thought.

If Din wanted to fight, you'd fight.

"Wouldn't you like that? Like me to just walk away?" You hiss, rising off the couch to stare at him. Din's helmet doesn't waver a bit as you close in enough to see the puffiness of your eyes. 

"Do you want to walk away?" He snaps back.

"Wouldn't that be easier!" You give a sarcastic laugh. "One of your problems could just walk away! Just say it! Just say you want me to leave you alone!" You shove at his chest weakly. 

"Stop," he orders sharply. "You don't know what your talking about." 

"Really!? Are you kriffing kidding, Din?" 

"You need to eat and go to bed."

"Do you somehow have this sick notion that I'm your kid, too? Because I'm not! I am not a child! I am a hurt, angry, and frustrated adult woman!" 

Din places his hands on his hips and towers over you. "Stop putting words in my mouth. Where are you even getting these ideas?"

"You treat me like a kid! I'm trying to show you I'm not one!"

"Well, you're acting worse than one right now!" He snarls through his modulator. You grit your teeth at his response. That one hurt. You knew it was true, the spotchka from tonight had left early tonight. It hadn't been enough to truly get you drunk.

"I have no problem listening to you when you give me a damn reason! Just fucking explain things!" 

"I don't want to argue with you." He resolves.

"THERE IT IS!" You nearly screech. "That! You barely give me any scraps! You are so fucking hard to read sometimes and I fucking hate it! All I wanted was you to tell me 'no' tonight but instead you just stared! YOU JUST WATCHED ME WALK AWAY!" Din's visor drops at that. It's not trained on you, but off to the side, down towards the floor. "I COULDN'T EVEN ENJOY IT BECAUSE YOU WERE FUCKING THERE THE WHOLE TIME LIKE SOME DEVIL!" You break, sobbing. 

His head twists up. "What?" 

"You just stare and mock and-"

"I have never mocked you," he butts quieter than before.

"Why didn't you say 'no'?" You snap, eyes blazing, needing an answer.

He only gives you silence. You squeeze your lips into a hard line in the deafening scream of it. Shaking your head, you twist away. "Fucking great," you mutter to yourself. 

A hand reaches tentatively for you, it brushes over the underside of your wrist and onto your palm. "What do you mean I was there?" He asks softly.

"You don't get to do that," you warn him, drawing your hand away again. Normally, you would blissfully sunk into his rare touch but you couldn't shake off the fire that was filling you. Guilt was nagging the back of your mind, knowing you were punishing good behavior. It was fruitless. He didn't want to touch you like that. "You don't get to answers from me while avoiding your own. That's not fair to me!"

Din sighs, turning his head to the side. "I'm... I'm not always good... with words." That one hurts more than you expect to. This man was bound to carve you up and spit you out.

You stop, turning your head towards him. You can see him shift his weight, stepping closer. He's standing right behind you. For the millionth time, you wished that fucking armor wasn't blocking his expressions from you.

"I... don't, just so you know."

"Don't what?"

"Want you to leave." 

"Why don't I believe that?" You prod, still feeling antagonistic. Din steps closer, he grasps your arm and turns you. He twists you about so suddenly and forcefully that you're taken by surprise. A gasp leaves you when he suddenly grasps your face. 

The air stills as you vibrate with the sudden aggression he's showing. His boots hit hard and heavy. Each step is slow and steady, his helmet only inches from your face that he's tilting up in the borderline painful grip he's got on your face. He's forcing you to walk backwards, supporting your form with the other hand that's gripping your arm. Air is suddenly harder to acquire. The air twisting tightly. "Bruise your cervix?" He prompts lowly. It drags across his tongue, extra ragged. "Use you. Make you feel something." It's not possible for your heart to beat out of your chest but when he's done walking you backwards, you feel like it will. 

The air has changed, charged with the electricity of anticipation rather than shame and rage. 

"Did Cobb do that?" He asks, nearly whispering. It's not an accusation. You glance towards the bassinette where the kid still sleeps, amazingly.

"I used him," you admit, shame filling you, he doesn't give you the opportunity to dwell on it too long because he's shoving you backwards onto something soft. The bed. 

Cue the swell of disbelief. Mando leans down and immediately starts working at your pants, tugging them open effectively. He gathers the edges in his hands just as you remember what is currently leaking from between your thighs. You gasp out, "Din, wait!" much softer than you intend. Your voice failing you in the way you need it to. 

Too late. He tugs the fabric down your legs effectively. Once glance tells you enough, he's staring at the mess that is was made between your thighs. "You let him cum in you?" His helm tilts up to your face that you cover with your hands. Your brain is too busy trying to decide if he's awed or offended by the newly reveled information. You try to press your thighs together. 

"I'm sorry," you plead between the palms on your face. 

Din hooks his hands roughly under your knees and jerks. You're dragged over the bed until your bare ass is seated at the end of the bed and then he pushes your knees up and apart and just... just stares. It's enough of a sight to have you peaking from behind your hands. "Are you sore?" 

Fuck, you were supposed to be fighting not... not... well, what even was this? Some kind of slut-shaming? Was it bad that you were this turned on by it. The morbid curiosity was battling the mortification at being examined by the Mandalorian bounty hunter in this manner. His fingers were squeezing and massaging where they rested under your knees, trying to coax an answer from you. "Ah... a little, I suppose."

"Doesn't sound bruised to me." 

You gulp.

"Don't move." How could you? You were petrified and incredibly, embarrassingly aroused. He lifts his hands from your legs, leaving you hanging on whatever he decided to torture you with. 

The last thing you expect is for those gloves to make their way to his belt and unbuckle it. "I said, 'don't move'," he repeats, pausing in his movements. It's only when he says that you notice you've propped yourself up to get a better view of him. Suddenly bashful, you sink back down to your back. "Open them further," he rumbles lowly. None of his words seem to have any aggression despite his aggressive actions. His town maybe low and he might be ordering you around but there is no real bark to him. It's raspy in a way that you've never heard from him. Drawn out slow in a way that indicates he's in no rush. The balance has you spinning.

But fuck, pulling his pants open and you nearly wheeze when a he palms your forehead, pushing it back into the bed while he reaches within the confides of his clothes. Your left with only a view of the ceiling and his wrist. His bronzed skin peaks out just a hair. "You don't get to look."

"Oh, shit," you breathe, squeezing your eyes shut. What sort of wet dream were you stuck in? There was no way-

Something runs across your most sensitive area, something too thick to be a finger. You gasp and arch as it hits your oversensitive clit right off the bat. A little 'ah' leaves you for only a moment. "It's your eyes," he says and you think you've missed something when he wheezes it out. Then he lines up and slowly, maker, so slowly and completely unhindered, he's breaching you with the cock you've been dreaming of for months. You give a torn moan and arch up, grasping at the sheets. Still it's quiet because of all the things tonight, this is the last thing you want the kid seeing. "Ca-can't speak when... when you look at me." Heat blooms in your chest. He's still pushing deeper. He sinks against your cervix like no one's done before and pushes against it. When his pelvis meets yours, it's stretching you almost painfully. Your cervix is straining at the intrusion. It's lewd how wet it sounds already.

"Din," you sigh. 

He gives a shaky groan when you squeeze around him. "Sh-should've told you 'no'," he admits, drawing back. And then he drives back in with force enough to make you cry out, and open further for him. "Ruin you," he murmurs with such a slur you wonder if he's drunk on it. And then his hips start to canter deep and hard. Not fast. Just deep and hard, stretching you beyond what you think you can. You're left mewling and trembling beneath him. "Should go... shove my...," he curses and his hand shifts from your forehead to your throat. "Shove my blaster, ah, kriff, down Vanth's throat." 

Wait, he was jealous? Fuck, did that make you clamp down on him. 

"Shit, like that?" He rasps out, still like he's whispering to you. "Want you," he promises, lower down so his chest is pinning you to the bed. He's so heavy, but you don't feel like you're breathing anyway. "All the time." 

Please, don't let this be another delusion. Please.

"Did-did you just say... say that you saw me... to piss me off?" He urges. 

"No," your arms tangle around him, grasping for purchase on his back. "No, I want you so- Kriff! Feels so good - want you so bad, s-saw you the whole time." He shudders in your hold, rolling the cool helmet against your neck as he continued his unhurried pace. He was going to kill you at this rate. "Please," you beg, "Please, Din. F-faster. Need it." 

"No, I'm using you," he responds. A hand grips your hip and it's like he doesn't know whether he wants to push you further into the bed or pull you closer.

A familiar feeling rises in you, another orgasm creeping closer. The thought is pushed from your mind as the other hand covers your eyes. The one gripping your hip disappears and then something drops onto the bed. "Don't... don't look." Unmodulated and raw. Din is kissing you then. His mouth wet and hot and welcoming in this inferno of a hut. 

He tastes so good and his tongue slips against yours eagerly. You would tear your eyes out if it meant you could feel his soft stubble against your mouth like this. You moan into his mouth and he eats it up with a particularly hard thrust. "Stay," he groans. "Be mine, be mine, be mine, bemine, beminebeminebemine...." he mantras like he can't breathe. His hips are finally moving faster.

"Yours," you promise, "Yours, yours, yours." You've lost your mind, unable to even conjure why you were mad at him in the first place because this sweet haze was too thick to look through and it takes you a moment to realize it’s a slow orgasm releasing. It’s not overwhelming, it’s just hot and sticky. It has you stretching across the sheets. His teeth sink into your neck as you shake below him. He settles down when you begin your own mantra. Instead, he grinds deeply into you. You're only vaguely aware of the way you both grasp and tug each other closer.

It's not long after before he spills himself into you with a string of expletives. "I'm sorry," he whispers against your neck. It's so nice to feel his breath for once.

"Me too." And nothing else seemed to be needed for it. It's not long before he's rocking his hips and spill his own seed out around himself.

You kind of like his beskar in this instance. The room feels too hot and it's cool against you both. Yeah, you could get used to this. Maybe tomorrow you'll remember what you're supposed to be fighting about.


End file.
